The Art of Falling
by OurLadyTuesday
Summary: At the beginning of this all, the only thing he wanted was a cup of tea. Now, the thing that he was beginning to want the most, was something he most definitely could not have. Hatter's thoughts throughout Part One of Syfy's Alice.


Boy, this got long fast! I watched Alice about a week ago, and have been UTTERLY OBSESSED ever since. I just never got around to writing anything until now xD

So, this is sort've a recap of what I think are the most important scenes between Alice and Hatter (like the ones that defined their relationship), and I also created and added onto some scenes. So there'll be jumps between the scenes I've written, some longer, some shorter. Basically, it's third-person perspective, (but still) from the viewpoint of Hatter. I didn't want to do the whole first-person thing because I wouldn't be talented enough to pull of his exact thoughts, aha xD Also, I really wanted to create a story where Hatter wasn't in love with Alice right off the bat. I like it subtle ;D

So, hopefully it's not too long, and reviews would be lovely. I'm hoping make this into a triology of sorts, but we'll see what the reaction to this is first :3

I've also edited, added, and lengthened quite a bit. I'm notorious for tweaking my works and always thinking there's room for improvement, so I tried to get it all out in this one sitting. Then, it's back to working on Part Two! 8D

Thank you for reading!

**Disclaimer: If Alice was mine, in any way, shape, or form, I'd already be writing a screenplay dedicated to fluff alone. xD**

* * *

All he wanted was a cup of tea.

Not the crap he sells in his shop, but the real stuff. The stuff the Queen'd banished in favour of presenting her ensnaring quick fixes as the real deal. It was clever, and the Queen was anything if not clever, for wasn't tea the staple of every class? It was the stereotypical ideal: settling down with a quaint cup o' tea after a tiring day. But how a sickly sweet substitute could wash away a good brew, he didn't know.

He never got it, really, why all the little bottles of coloured liquid tasted the same, but all held such snazzy different hues. To enhance the marketing? Try purple today, pink tomorrow, no matter what you're consuming it'll always be a gas!

He paused in his musings, blinking. That was a terrible stringing of words, even for him. Obviously the clever, _clever_ Queen would be able come up with something more suitable than that. At least he hoped so, for if people were really going crazy over that jumbled mess of words then perhaps his beloved Wonderland was really past the point of no return.

He sighed, fingering the lid of his white teapot. Another minute.

He had to admit, sometimes batting for the enemy had it's advantages. Like tea. Real tea. He wouldn't be able to get it anywhere aside from the Suits themselves, presented to him in a lovely little package at the end of each month. A thanks of sorts for running his little shop of human emotion.

A bitter smile twisted his lips then. For really, who liked to think of it as that: 'human emotion'? Nasty, really, to put it in blunt terms like that. Made people think about what they were consuming. And if they couldn't afford Clear Conscience— brand spanking new to the market today— then settling with just calling their addictions 'oyster juice' had to do.

But the marketing, oh the marketing! Calling it 'oyster juice' surely would be quite the pitiful technique. So the fabulous, _wonderful_ idea of unjustly, sorry, _rightfully_ taking over the concept of tea was introduced.

So here he was. Surrounded by the bane of his existence, waiting to drink his payment from the creators of said baneful existence... huh. Now he didn't know if he really wanted that tea, or if he didn't want it at all. Tea. No tea. Tea. No. Maybe. He contemplated that well, if he'd already begun to steep the leaves, then he might as well not waste it. Right? Right. He hoped. It was just as he was waiting through the final seconds before the tea was ready (and also to make his final decision), when he was interrupted. And quite wheezingly at that, too.

"Hatter!"

At first he just cocked his head to the side, ignoring the owner of the wheeze for a moment. Fingering his teapot one last time, he decided that yes, he wanted the bloody tea. Happy to have that dealt with, he turned, eyebrows raised. He drew out the word: "Yes?"

Ratty stood before him, trembling and obviously excited. His beady eyes gleamed, and if it was possible, his stench was even stronger than usual. Hatter felt a vague concern that perhaps Ratty had somehow managed to steal some of his precious retail, and worried about the foul smelling man exploding on his grass.

"A girl," Ratty gasped, out of breath for whatever reason. Hatter eyed him warily, he looked absolutely ready to burst. "There a girl!"

"Yes," Hatter agreed nonchalantly, inspecting his fingernails. He had to admit, there was something endearing about Ratty's lack of grammar when he got excited. It almost made up for the fact that Hatter knew he couldn't trust him as far as he could throw him. If he could even lift the man off the ground to start with, that is. "There would be girls in my shop. You know, those things, usually prettier than men? Not always though..."

Ratty didn't even get the slightest bit disgruntled, and Hatter had to admit, he was slightly disappointed. It was so hard to find a good tease.

"_Alice_," Ratty breathed, extending his arms out to the Hatter and letting the word hang in the air between them. Obviously, this was supposed to be climatic but Hatter just blinked, looked down, noticed his tea was ready, and began to pour it into a cup. He couldn't let a good decision, and even better tea, go to waste now, could he?

"That's nice," he said lightly, his back now turned to Ratty. "I bet she's a lovely bloke. Er, girl. Slip of the tongue an' all; haven't had my tea yet today."

There was silence for a moment as Hatter poured his tea. His concern came back; Ratty hadn't exploded, had he? Hearts, he hoped not. But wouldn't he have heard something? A popping noise, perhaps? What did people sound like when they exploded, anyway?

"No," Ratty's voice broke through his ramblings suddenly. Ah, good, he hadn't exploded. "_No._" And he was showing some disgruntlement! Finally. "_Alice_, Alice! Of legend!"

Hatter froze, three-quarters of the way through pouring his tea. He spun around, teapot still in his hand. He started, stopped, chewed on his lip a moment, and then finally settled for fixing Ratty with an doubtful stare.

"You mean to say," he started, pointing his teapot at Ratty, "that Alice of Legend, _the_ Alice of Legend, is here in Wonderland?"

"Yes!" Ratty hissed, trembling again with excitement. But then he too froze suddenly, looking around nervously as if there was a chance of being overheard.

"Here," he whispered, "you come here!"

He gestured at Hatter to come closer with his hand. With an eye roll, Hatter placed down his teapot and strolled over. Wrinkling his noise at their closeness, he surveyed Ratty who'd lowered himself into a crouch.

"Alright now," he muttered, "what's all this about?"

"I bring her to you. She's looking, looking for someone." Ratty murmured. Quickly, he cast a look back towards the shop. "She's waiting."

Hatter, for a moment, was horrified.

"You brought 'er here?" he demanded. He uprighted himself and, forgetting for a moment about the smell, seized Ratty by the shoulders. "You brought an Oyster _here_?!"

"Not just any Oyster," Ratty grinned, his eyes twinkling with greed. "Alice."

"Alice, right," Hatter said, letting him go. He contemplated running his fingers through his hair, but decided against it. He didn't want his hair smelling too. Instead he pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. When he opened them, Ratty was still there, still continuing to grin.

"Uh, Ratty?"

"Yes?"

"What are you doing?"

Ratty's grin evaporated for a moment, a look of puzzlement crossing his dirty face. "Uh, I... I bring you Alice."

Hatter fixed him with a look. "Then why aren't you getting her?"

Ratty looked startled, and then straightened his posture.

"I go now!" he declared before scurrying off back into the main shop.

Hatter groaned, walking over to his chair and sinking into it, tea completely forgotten about for the moment. Alice, Alice of Legend? Right. The day the Hearts Casino crashed to the earth would be the day that Alice of Legend showed up here again. What would she even do, anyway? What could anyone really do?

His mind came back to the girl, though. He was curious of this Alice. How had she managed to escape out of the Scarab? She either had to be a very clever Oyster, or a very stupid one. Perhaps it had simply been a malfunction of sorts? A coincidence? He wouldn't be surprised, the _clever_ Queen hadn't updated her technology in decades. An Oyster was bound to get out one day, but the coincidence of all coincidences though was that it just happened to be an Oyster named Alice. He had to admit, he was quite curious indeed.

And so he sat in his chair, and waited.

* * *

She was staring at the ring. He was staring at her. He couldn't quite get over the fact that she just hit him. Yeah, he wasn't exactly wounded, but did she not see him go flying a few feet through the air? He may have had a sledge hammer fist, but he certainly didn't have a sledge hammer body. And that bloody well knocked the wind out of him.

And then he ran, ran like only a con-man could, tackled the bastard that was Dodo, got the wind knocked out of him again, and got punched in the face. Repeatedly. So could she really blame him for a being a tad on the breathless side?

She was still staring at the ring. He was still staring at her. She hadn't answered his question, possibly opting to protect this mysterious Jack Face... Chance, Chase? Whatever. He didn't care. He was curious again, not about the ring anymore though, but about another question she'd left unanswered.

"You never answered my question," he wheezed out, struggling to stand. Oh, for the love of toads he sounded like Ratty in both the wheezing and the random unexplained statement. The fact that this standing business was failing due to gravity going against him didn't exactly help either in making him appear intelligent.

She looked at him in confusion, her big expressive eyes locked on his now. She probably thought he meant his second question, his one about where the hell her Oyster lover had gotten the Stone of Wonderland. But he was far too curious to pass up his first wonder now. He grunted, finally upright, refastening his shirt buttons and awkwardly straightening his posture.

"How," he asked again, incredulousness leaking into his tone once more, "did you do that?"

She paused, her eyebrows coming down and her face going all quizzical. He wondered if she did that a lot. Seemed like it. He couldn't help but grin at her confusion, for now _he_ was the one holding some sort of mystery. Granted, his "mystery" was a forgotten question about one of her own mysteries. But why quibble?

"Do what?" she asked, still staring at him.

He marvelled, not for the first time, at the richness of her voice. Not the lovey, smitten kind of marvel, the just-genuinely-surprised type. It wasn't something he'd been expecting from a female oyster, especially when Ratty had claimed her to be Alice. He'd picture a higher voice tone, more girlish; and with fairer features. Feminine. Not that this Alice wasn't feminine, but she could definitely take care of herself. Not the damsel in distress at all.

He realized she was still staring at him, and his grin became an embarrassed one.

"That... thing, " he finally replied rather _intelligently_. "With the throwing, and the ground..." he realized in not having a single clue what she'd done (and thus realizing that he probably should've asked her _what_ she did rather than _how_) he was digging himself into quite the articulate hole. He rubbed his face, and realized (it seemed like a good moment for "realizing") that there was no blood. He then realized (see previous set of brackets) that he probably wasn't even going to bruise. Dodo's strength had definitely diminished from being locked underground for so long. But then again, Hatter himself hadn't exactly been performing fisticuffs much either as of late.

"Oh," she said, watching him as if she didn't know whether or not be amused. "Martial arts."

"Marshall's art?" he grunted, frowning at her. "What, his paintin' is so terrible that it makes you wanna take a bloke out?"

She looked at him in absolute shock for a second. And then, he thought maybe, just maybe, she was going to laugh. But she wouldn't, because they weren't friends. Friends were people you trusted, and he knew she didn't trust him, especially after everything that had just happened.

For some odd reason, he found himself slightly disappointed by this. He'd hoped that whatever doubt he'd instilled in her had lifted when he'd yelled at her to press the blue button. Because yeah, maybe he wanted her to trust him. Maybe it was because she was brave. He decided he liked brave, even if it seemed to come with a drop of stupid.

Stupid for declaring that no one was getting the ring while he negotiated, trying to save her wet butt. Stupid for coming back for him. She could've gotten hurt, both times. And that would've been a waste, wouldn't it? After following her boyfriend and escaping Scarab and all? But she didn't. And so she was brave. At least, he thought so. His head hurt.

"No," she finally said quietly, still watching him. The 'to be or not to be" amusement war had been lost, betrayed by her lips, pulling up ever so slightly at the ends. "It's a fighting method..." she paused again. "In my world," she finished quietly. And while her lips were still curled in their slight way, he knew if her eyes could curl, they'd be curled in the opposite direction.

Wait. Had he really just thought about _if her eyes could curl_? Hearts, Diamonds, and Spades he was pathetic. But he just nodded at her words, trying not to let his inner disgust with himself show. Because he felt sorry for her, really he did, and he didn't want her to think he was disgusted with her or with her strange art fighting. His brain was a mess, and he could only guess that her's was, too. What she was thinking? What did Wonderland look like to her? Was this lover boy really worth it?

A quiet had settled over the two of them. Alice appeared to be in deep thought. He wondered again: over Wonderland? Her boyfriend? The _ring_? That last thought jogged his mouth to open and ruin their silence.

"An' the ring?" he asked. "You really did get it from your world?"

Any traces of amusement or sadness left her face then, her mouth tightening into a thin line. He decided she had a nice mouth, there was a type of gravity to it. Made her seem more grown-up. Not like what he'd pictured at all with all the tales of Alice of Legend: the little girl with a big curiosity. This Alice wasn't curious at all, she was on a mission. Get in, get out, go home.

"Jack really did give this to me," she stated, her voice strong. "And no, I don't know where he got it from, but..." she looked away again, they were at ground level once more.

"I can't leave him _here_," she whispered fiercely.

He nodded again. Brave, indeed.

* * *

"Let me make it up to you," he said, his voice coming out a little desperately.

He'd been partially expecting the freak out. Only partially though. But thoughts could run so wild (and wasn't he the prime example of that?) so he should've taken it as a little red flag when he heard the tone she'd used when she said 'here'.

He felt like a bastard, really he did. Because he was a bigger part of this 'here' than anyone else she had met so far— the main attraction, if one would. He'd been the one stupid, no selfish (might as well use her word) enough to lead her down to Dodo as if she were some prize. And she was a prize. The Stone of Wonderland, _The Stone of Wonderland! _He hadn't known, though, obviously. But a nagging little voice in the back of his head reminded him that most likely, even if he _had_ known, he still would've brought her to Dodo. It was just as Dodo said, actually, how could one pass up such an opportunity when it fell into their lap? Or in his case, when one walked into his Tea Shop.

And so he was a bastard. Because he would've cashed her in like a prize. His words (and her's— Hearts, he wanted that little internal voice to stop. Where did it even bloody come from anyway?) echoed dully in his mind's ear; _"I want my usual cut, up front."_

She was more than simply a prize, though. He liked her well enough as a person, she was pretty and held such a hate for some guy's art that it made her quite kickass, quite literally. Well, more so kick _face_ but... he realized the second she ran back for him to kick Dodo in the bloody teeth that he respected her. Yeah, she was stupid, but it was a nice sort of stupid. The sort of stupid he hadn't seen in a long time, because the world just seemed stupid-stupid now; no one really gave a crap about anyone anymore. He didn't know what came first, the trust or the care (much like the chicken or the egg, that one still bugged him too), but in whichever order, Wonderland severely lacked both emotions. And so to have an Oyster, a human girl, run back to possibly and quite literally sacrifice herself to help him was... well, it was a big deal. At least, it was to him.

And so, he really did want to make it up to her. In fact, he'd even thought of the exact way how: he was going to bring her home. He couldn't save her boyfriend (who also must've really taken a big bite out of the stupid cake to steal the flipping _Stone of Wonderland_), but he could save her. She deserved it.

Plus, he still felt like a bastard. Perhaps helping her would remedy this.

"Alice, this is a dangerous place," he started, taking her in. She looked scared. He saw that, beneath the anger. It just firmed his resolve. "Trust me, you're going to need my help."

She looked at him, and he swore, he swore on the Red King's throne, that she softened. Just a little.

"Okay," she said quietly, with a slight nod of her head. She took and deep breath and stuck out her hand, looking him square in the eye. He grinned a grin that could outdo the Cheshire Cat, and connected his hand with her's.

"Alright then," he said after giving a firm shake. "Let's get outta here."

* * *

"Not that way! _Alice__!_"

And he was running. Only one drop of stupid, only one drop? Maybe it was the other way around, and she had only a drop of brave. Stupid, stupid girl! She could've just climbed the bloody tree. Ask questions later, really. Why did she need to know _now_? Wasn't the word 'bait' enough for her little human brain?

The Jabberwocky crowed, and he pumped his legs harder. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

The more Hatter ran, the angrier he got. Not at Alice, but at himself. He should've known by now to give her the lowdown right off the bat. Maybe he'd been wrong when he said she wasn't curious. Well, no, it wasn't curiosity she held. It was more of a determination, a need for being 'in' on things. But silly Hatter, he just assumed she'd climb her bloody tree and he'd be the bloody bait and all would be swell. Well, this was just bloody swell, wasn't it? Running through the trees, chasing a monster who should be chasing him _in the opposite direction_ who was instead chasing a clueless human girl? Who was still wearing the Stone of Wonderland, to top it all off?

He had to admit, though, despite the anger, he was genuinely scared crapless over the aforementioned clueless human girl. Of course he had to go and bloody well _respect _her. He lived in Wonderland, for Rabbit's sakes. When did this respecting business ever go down smoothly in Wonderland? And of course he had to start feeling the tendrils of some awkward friendship between them. A friendship that was blossoming through this respect, the feeling of duty over her safety from said respect, and the fact that she was really quite cute regardless of her stupidness that he felt protective over all because of this damned bloody _respect! _

He was gaining on them, he could see her now. She was stumbling through the brush with the Jabberwocky close on her heels. He really had no clue what he was going to do once he caught up to them. If he caught up to them. No, he would, because if he didn't.... alright, so, he needed a game plan. Salting himself? Dammit, he had no salt. Calling out, "Oh hey, devour my innards instead" ? No, that would just frighten Alice. He could—

Alice wasn't running anymore, he realized with a jolt. No, she'd _fallen_. Every bad word he could possibly think of began a frantic chorus in his mind. And then oh, and _then_, the Jabberwocky was pinned! Bloody well _pi__nned! _Out of all the insanely ridiculous, absolutely _absurd _luck...

The trees trembled dangerously. There was no time for mental ramblings now. He was there now, at her side. The breath of the stupid creature (the Jabberwocky, not Alice) nearly knocked him over; he didn't know which was worse, the power behind the breath or the stench. Put Ratty to shame, it did. But then his mind cleared again (sometimes he really wished he could just turn his brain off), and swinging his fist he slammed it into the Jabberwocky's skull. It cried out, thrashing, and he grabbed Alice.

And then they were running. He was speaking words, but his mind wasn't quite keeping up with his brain. He just knew he had to run, and he had to keep Alice running, and eventually, all the running would pay off. At least, he hoped so. His mind was a tangle of profanity and he couldn't quite seem to shake the stupid thought that having Alice in his life was going to make him so skinny he'd be invisible. Because at this rate, with the all this running—

And then they fell.

He laid there for a moment, not sure what he was feeling more, shock or pain. He looked up.

"Ow," he muttered, pain winning out.

Recapping the last few minutes in his mind, he had to wonder if this whole running and falling thing was entertaining to someone, somewhere. He turned to Alice, seeing the ridiculous arrangement of the spikes placed around her, and felt the formation of... something, in his stomach. Horror at what could've happened? Soul-crushing relief that it had not?

"You okay?" he gasped.

She nodded, "Just about."

This girl had to have 'just about' the damned craziest luck in the world.

* * *

Then there was Charlie. Oh, holy tea leaves of wonder, there was Charlie.

And calling him a vassal? What the bloody hell was that?

Hatter had to admit though, that having Alice on a horse with him was rather nice. She couldn't fall or run in the opposite direction or get herself killed there. Not to mention he wasn't about to let her out of his sight (for all aforementioned, _very _legit reasons) anytime soon. So yes, this was rather nice indeed. That niceness left, though, the second Hatter got view of the throne room. Or what was left of it, anyway.

Perhaps it was because of Alice's lengthening proximity to him, or perhaps he just didn't leave his shop enough, but the emotions Hatter was beginning to experience as of late (to his memory) had never been quite this powerful before. Respect, protectiveness, relief, and now _this_. So what if there was a dead king? He'd been dead for how many years? But somehow, these thoughts didn't stop him from feeling as if Dodo had knocked the wind out of him with another knee to the chest.

This was the throne room? _The throne room?_ Of _the_ Red King? Of the man who gave peace to Wonderland for a thousand years? These were the remains: vegetation and a rusted knight?

An unexpected desperation pulled at him; he longed for his tea, for his shop. But he knew he could never get it back. Not now, anyway. There'd be no more monthly packages, no more sneaking up on Dormouse while he dozed. No more supplying Duck or Owl, no more assisting the refugees. All the pieces of who he was, gone, all because of a girl in a blue dress.

No. That wasn't fair. She was a woman, not a girl, and he couldn't blame her.

"I'm gonna go... get a lay o' the land," Hatter drawled, not quite able to meet either of his comrade's eyes. "Fascinating stuff, this. Really. I'd just love to, you know, get an in depth look."

Charlie sized him up, trying to stand taller himself, his armour gently clanking. If Hatter was being honest with himself (and really, what was the point in not being so?), he would admit that Charlie slightly scared the cows out of him. Not that he thought the man was purposely homicidal, but he really was mad as a box of frogs. He wasn't fully comfortable with leaving Alice alone with the knight for a long period of time, so he wouldn't venture too far.

Alice. She just surveyed him, he could feel it, but he couldn't read her eyes. For that would mean he'd have to look in them, and for some reason, that was something he felt he most certainly could not do.

"Right... so," no one else had spoken, so Hatter awkwardly continued. "I'll just... go, then. Be back soon. Yell extra loud if y'get raided," he gave a weak grin, catching Alice's gaze for just a moment, and then he walked off.

He could feel her eyes on him, and heard Charlie mutter something. Most likely something unpleasant, probably along the lines of his senses tingling over his _mystical _black arts intuition. Or perhaps he was even making fun of Hatter's hat. But even if the crazy old man was making fun of the hat, Hatter could not bring himself to care right now. He just needed to get away.

His thoughts were endlessly harassing him. Of course they just _had_ to run into a White Knight. Y'know, those great, noble men who stood for everything he himself was not, and who weren't even supposed to exist anymore. Of course there had to be just _one_, and he had to, of course, take them to the Kingdom of the Knights. Where the Red King's throne sat, lonely and decomposing like his body. Though of course, if he really thought about it, there wouldn't be this cosmic ironic stringing of 'of course' if there, _of course_, hadn't been the girl. Alice.

He could picture her, fixing him with those eyes, and he wanted to pull his hair out. Because no matter what, he didn't blame her, he didn't blame her one bit. She was good and lovely and he was certain she could kick his butt from Wonderland to her world if she really wanted to. She was brave. Truly. Even though yes, she frustrated the hell out of him, and yes, she was stubborner than the Executioner's axe, but it was the remaining fact, the consistent fact that she was here, in Wonderland, that made her brave. It was the fact that she didn't give up, that she just continued on her bloody mission, and she just accepted everything along the way. Hell, she even accepted _Charlie._

So here he stood, within the Kingdom of the Knights, contemplating bravery. Because now he just didn't _think_ he liked brave, he _knew _he liked brave. He would even admit that he was envious of Alice, because she hadn't just taken up his offer and gone home with her blue dress tucked between her legs. He was envious because, unlike Alice, he was a _coward_. Just like Dodo had said. A leech.

So where did that leave him now?

He wanted to change. He felt it, felt the emotions running ramped through him. He felt them pulling and pushing at him to do something. He did not want to be thought of as a leech, or a coward. He wanted to be Hatter, just as he told Alice. The one who was around when they passed the hat. He wanted to be generous, he wanted to be _there_...

And just like that, he knew. He knew he couldn't leave. He had to stay in Wonderland. Returning to Alice's world with her... well, that was the wish of a coward. And he was no coward, he was Hatter, and by the Red King's throne he was going to fight for his people. He was going to chose a side and be damned at the costs.

But Alice... he couldn't damn Alice as well. He simply couldn't. He would uphold his promise, he would return her to her own world. He needed to convince her to listen to him though, to allow him to bring her to the Looking Glass safe and sound. And then knowing she was safe, he would take to the White Rabbit's Headquarters for negotiations. He would prove his namesake, he would be brave for Alice so that she could escape this madness, and he would try to do his part for his world.

* * *

"So that's what this was about," she said, the fire flickering off her eyes. She was hurt, and he felt like a bastard all over again.

He was starting to realize he could never keep his bloody mouth shut around her anymore, and he wasn't really sure when that started happening. In fact, he realized he didn't quite know what was going on at all anymore. Somehow the day had turned to night, the hours felt as if they were slipping by too quickly, pressuring him to _do something._ The only words he'd really spoken to anyone since he'd gotten back from his walk were to Charlie. He'd seen the knight stroll by with some sort of rat, simply told him to not show Alice before he cooked it, and created a splutter fest for the ages.

Alice had been quite quiet as well up until now, going in between periods of taking in the scenery and appearing deep in thought. Charlie just sang, obviously excited over her company, and she'd given him weak smiles in appreciation for his awkward efforts.

Now Hatter knew what she had been contemplating all this time. That_ lover_ of her's again and how to cut a negotiation. How was he supposed to keep her alive when she was so bloody hell bent on continuing her suicide mission? And then he'd let himself slip, and that was one mighty big slip, even if he hadn't had any tea for hours. So there she was, looking at him, and at first he couldn't look back at her. But he could at least let her know that he was going to keep his promise.

"Don't worry," he retorted quickly, his mouth seemed to know what to do even though his brain was in quite the tizzy. But then again, wasn't it his mouth that had slipped? Or had that been his brain, too, giving permission to the mouth? _Hearts, _that mind ofhis mind needed to _shut up. _He met her eyes once more. "I'm going to get you home safe and sound first."

That mouth of her's, Hearts, that stupid bloody mouth, it tightened again. All the babble died on his mental lips as he watched her own, because he knew that look. The look she was giving him, the one that said he was a bastard, and he knew he was, he _knew_.

"And Jack?" she questioned, her voice thick.

He faltered for a second, and just looked at her. Then turned away. What was he supposed to say? What _could _he say? The emotions were building and at the back of his mind he couldn't help but feel like he was missing out on something, something bigger, something he hadn't clued into yet. Frustration was evolving, and before he realized what he was doing, he'd turned around again.

"You have to forget about Jack," he started.

She was still looking at him, why did she always have to look at him? Why couldn't she just turn her eyes away when she was upset? Her eyes, her mouth. She was hurting. He was hurting. He felt half-insane. Because he knew why she wouldn't look away, it was because she was brave. It was because she refused to go a moment without her head held high, and he valued her for that. And here he was about to hurt her, hating the words he knew he had to say. Because really, she didn't know what she was asking.

"We're never going to get him out of the Casino alive," he pleaded. He was slipping, the desperation from his walk earlier leaking into his system and his voice. "And trying is just going to set off alarm bells. It'll just make your escape impossible."

"So you were just leading me on back there?" her voice almost overlapped with his with her quick retort. She looked at him for a moment longer, and then walked away. He felt each step, frustration rising with every footfall. Silently, he begged her with his eyes to just turn around and _listen_. She didn't know what she was up against. Was she really brave, or had he deluded himself in his newfound patriotism, and she was actually just stupid? He didn't know again and frankly, at the current moment he couldn't care less. He just knew he wasn't taking her to that blasted Casino because he had never in his life wanted more badly to keep someone alive. Not even the refugees. The weight of it all overwhelmed him.

"Just believe me," he almost rasped, willing her with everything he had to understand. "It'll be suicide!"

But she wouldn't look at him anymore. It was like he ceased to exist, shut away in her mind as a part of a story she didn't want to be a part of. She sat down in front of the fire, and suddenly, all his frustration gave way. He deflated. Because she looked so beautiful, so determined, and he _knew_. It clicked, switched, flicked on, whatever one wanted to call it. He knew what he hadn't been cluing in to.

"Jack's a lucky guy," he whispered, the words leaving his lips before they had permission to, or even permission at all.

She looked up at him, "What?"

"Nothing," his voice came out more sharply than intended, a spike of emotion, and then he deflated again.

This girl, she drained him, drained him like none of the Queen's technology ever could. She peaked his curiosity, earned his respect, made him a nervous wreck, and flipped so constantly between being stupid and brave that he could hardly distinguish between the two anymore. She was stubborn, she was determined, she was a fighter... and no matter how many times he saved her, she always seemed to manage to endanger herself again.

He didn't know if he wanted to laugh or punch the nearest tree. Because he finally figured it out. He _liked_ her. He liked her dark hair and her light eyes and her stupid gravity mouth and yeah, he even liked her bloody ability to be both stupid and brave. Because he knew, he knew in the in his very bones, that going after Jack was quite possibly the stupidest thing he had ever heard of. But it was also brave. Because she would risk her life out of this... this _care_ she felt. This 'like'. The same kind of like that had just hit him between the eyes. The rawness of it all, the novelty, it overwhelmed him. And so he knew he couldn't look at her anymore, at least, not tonight.

"Look, it's late," his voice had softened and he began to walk toward her, his feet almost seeming to be leading him there without permission. "We all need our... rest. We can... argue about this tomorrow. Yeah?"

She refused to acknowledge him, opting to stare into space instead. So he gave up. He walked away, taking off his hat and running his fingers through his hair.

At the beginning of this all, the only thing he wanted was a cup of tea. Now, the thing that he was beginning to want the most, was something he most definitely could not have.

* * *

HOLY EDITING. So, that definitely lengthened things. Hm. So NOW what do you think of it? I promise, aside from fixing any typo's in this one, that I will not do such a crazy adding-to for the next part. Which means it'll take a little longer to get out (and a lot of self-restraint on my impulsivity xD). God I wanted to do that, though xD

Thanks to Alittica for telling me the names of them library people! ;D

Two more things though :3 I know Hatter asks about the ring again in the actual movie, like where Jack got it from, but I thought maybe if he felt there was more of a comradeship between him and Alice, he might get a different answer? Hopefully it didn't seem out of place xD

Also, how did you guys like Hatter's falling, if you will? He doesn't love her yet, but he likes her. The love is coming though ;D

OH. And does anywhere know where the whole "gravity mouth" thing comes from? After I wrote it, I was like, 'Wait, I know this from somewhere...' but I can't peg where! D; So, not trying to plagiarise, and any help on this mystery would be great ^__^

But, yeah, tell me what you thought? Too long? Not in character? Would you read a second one? Anything and everything helps :)


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